The Mammoth Book of Paranormal Romance

by Trisha Telep

Marina’s laughter doubled. She arched her back, baring her small breasts, and pushed into the water. Diving under, she spun, her muscular tail pumping her in a fast loop around the rock’s chain anchor. Bubbles streamed from her long hair, a silver trail.

  Suddenly, she broke the surface and shook her hair, spraying water. Still laughing, her gaze darted across the catwalk to the north tank. Slyly, she looked back at Robin, writhed so she floated on her back, and splashed her tail.

  Robin looked at the north tank, which until that night had been empty. A seal, torpedo-shaped, rubbery, its grey skin mottled with black, lay on the artificial rock and stared at her with black, shining eyes. The new arrival. A tag, sealed in a plastic, waterproof cover, hung from the rail by the cage. It read: “On loan from the British Alternative Biologies Laboratory. HOMO PINNIPEDIA. Common names: selkie (Scottish), silke (Irish).”

  A selkie. It used its seal skin to travel through the water, but it could shed the skin to walk on land as a human. The creature raised itself on its flippers and looked at her with interest. Real, human interest shone in those round black eyes.

  “Wow,” Robin murmured. What were they going to do with a selkie?

  She leaned on the railing, watching for a time, but the selkie didn’t move. She kept a notebook, a journal for informal observations and such. She could write: “Seal, lounging.”

  She had to walk rounds every two hours, since many of the subjects didn’t show up on the video monitors. She was supposed to conduct formal interviews with Rick, since he was obviously most active during the night watch. But Ottoman had collected all the arcane information he could from him - without going so far as staking and dissecting him - months ago, so they usually just chatted. Tonight though, she found herself leaning in the doorway to the aquatics lab. The lights in the lab were dim. The water seemed to glow with its own blue aura.

  “It won’t change form while you’re staring at it,” Rick said.

  “I’m just curious.”

  The seal swam, fluidly circling, peering at her through the thick glass, disappearing regularly as it bobbed to the surface for air.

  “It. Don’t you even know what gender it is?” Bradley Njalson, the werewolf, had woken up. His deep voice echoed from his bed against the far wall of his cell.

  “Yes, oh great biologist,” Rick said, “have you sexed the specimen?”

  She’d tried, but the seal had deftly managed to keep that part of its anatomy turned away from her.

  “The tag didn’t say,” she said. She’d looked for the research files and the reports that had arrived with the selkie, but Ottoman had locked them up before rushing off to his conference.

  For all she knew, it was just a seal.

  The next night, she spent most of her shift sitting on the top step of the catwalk stairs, watching it.

  She heard a splash from the south tank. Marina pulled herself to the bars and watched Robin watching the other tank.

  “Marina, what do you know about selkies?”

  The mermaid, who’d been caught in Dingle Bay in Ireland several years before, had been humming a song, an Irish-sounding jig. “A mermaid died to save a silke once.”

  “Can you tell me about it?”

  “Ask ‘im.”

  Robin turned to where the mermaid nodded, to where a man hung on to the bars of the selkie’s cage, holding himself half out of the water, smiling. Surprised, Robin jumped to her feet.

  He was lean, muscular. Slick with water, his pale skin shone. Black hair dripped past his shoulders. His face was solid, unblemished. He didn’t grip the bars like a prisoner; he held them loosely, using them to balance as he treaded water. His smile was playful, like she was inside the cage and he was studying her.

  Tentatively, she nodded a greeting. “Hello.”

  He pushed himself away from the bars and glided back through the water. He was naked and totally unselfconscious. His body was as sculptured and handsome as his face. He had the broad shoulders and muscular arms of an Olympic swimmer, powerful legs and every muscle in his torso was defined. She could have used his body for an anatomy lecture.

  He swam to the artificial rock, climbed out of the water, and sat back, reclining. He spread his arms, exposing to best advantage his broad chest, toned abdomen and . . . genitalia was too clinical a word for what he displayed. He was posing for her.

  Next to him lay a bundle of grey, rubbery skin.

  Robin stood at the bars of his cage, looking through them for an unobstructed view. She didn’t remember moving there. She took a deep, reflexive breath. Her heartbeat wouldn’t slow down.

  Marina laughed uncontrollably, both hands over her mouth, tail flapping. Her voice was musical, piercing.

  Robin fled the room.

  Back in the main lab, she stood with her back against the wall, eyes closed, gasping.

  “Let me guess. The selkie - male?” Rick’s tone was politely inquisitive.

  The flush on Robin’s face became one of embarrassment. So much for the biologist and her professional demeanour. “Yes. Yes, he is.”

  “They have a knack for that.”

  “A knack for what?”

  “Flustering young women out of their wits. I’m sure you know the stories.”

  Since her posting to the Center, Robin had to question all the myths and ancient tales. They might be just stories, then again . . . She went to the bookshelves to look up “selkie” in Briggs’ Encyclopedia of Fairies.

  “How do you do it?” Rick asked, moving to the end of his window.

  “Do what?”

  “Remain so clinical. When confronted with so many contradictions to your assumptions about the world.”

  “I expand my assumptions,” she said.

  “What about the magic? Your inability to control your reaction to the selkie. You are so careful, Lieutenant, not to look into my eyes.”

  The impulse was, of course, to look at him. The voice hinted at rewards she would find when she did. Mystery. Power. She resisted, taking the book to her desk, passing Rick’s cell on the way. She looked at the collar of his shirt. “Why are you all so damn seductive?”

  “It’s in the blood.” He grinned. The allure disappeared. He could turn it on and off like a light switch.

  Brad laughed, a sound like a growl.

  Robin almost wished for the seal back. It had been much less distracting. For the rest of the night, the seal skin remained piled on the rock, and the man watched her. She turned her back on him to check off her rounds on the charts, and when she looked again he was right there, pressed against the bars. Sometimes, their faces were only inches apart. Sometimes, she didn’t shy away, and she could feel his warm breath. He never said a word.

  She was attracted to the selkie. That was a statement, an observation, something empirical with explanations having to do with the fact that she was a young woman and he was a young man. A very handsome young man. Hormones were identifiable. Controllable.

  So why couldn’t she seem to control the way her body flushed every time she entered the aquatics lab? Rick had mentioned magic. But the Center was here precisely because magic didn’t exist, only biology that had not yet been explained.

  Biology. She needed a cold shower.

  Wednesday night.

  She turned around after setting down Marina’s supper and tripped on the catwalk. No, she didn’t trip - Marina had reached through the bars, grabbed her ankle and tipped her over. The mermaid was stronger than she looked. Robin sprawled across the catwalk between the tanks, too surprised to move, lying with the meat of her palms digging into the steel treads.

  The selkie was by the bars, right beside her. He touched her hand. Even though his hand was damp and cool, Robin thought her skin would catch fire. He took her hand, brought it through the bars and kissed it, touching each knuckle with his lips.

  When she didn’t pull away, he grew bold, turning her hand, kissing the inside of her wrist, tracing her thumb with his tongue, sucking on the tip of a finge
r. She hadn’t imagined she could feel like this, all her nerves focused on what he was doing to her. She closed her eyes. Nothing existed in the world but her hand and his mouth.

  She was on duty. This was not allowed. She should stand up and leave. Write a report about the cooperative behaviour of the selkie and the mermaid. Marina was laughing, quietly now, from behind her rock.

  Gradually, Robin slid forwards so that her face was at the bars. She shouldn’t be doing this. The security cameras recorded everything. The selkie kissed her. His lips moved slowly, carefully tasting every part of her mouth, letting her taste him. Then his hands cupped her face. If it hadn’t been for the bars, she would have let him pull her into the water.

  He drew away first. The bars kept her from reaching after him. He swam a few feet away, holding her gaze until he reached the door of the cage, where he lingered, waiting. The message: if she wanted to continue, she’d have to open the door.

  Well then, that was it. She lay on the catwalk, her hand still thrust through the bars, dangling in the cool water.

  She used the bars to pull herself to her feet. She trembled a little, her heart racing. Nerves, that was all. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. She could still feel his lips.

  She planned to go straight to the next room. The control box to deactivate the electronic locks on the cages was at the top of the stairs. A single move. That’s all it would take. Marina made a sound, part-sympathetic, part-mocking.

  She walked past the control box, into the next room. Her lips pursed, her blood rushed.

  “Lieutenant?” Rick said.

  Ignoring him, she continued to the side room which held the bank of a dozen TV monitors, showing the view from cameras focused on every enclosure in the Center. Jones the dog was gnawing on a rawhide bone. The griffin was scratching the steel wall of its cell. The unicorn stood with a foot cocked, nose to the floor, sleeping. In the aquatics lab, Marina was basking on her rock, brushing her hair with her fingers, probably singing as well. The selkie, still in human form, swam back and forth in front of the door, as if pacing. Like he was waiting.

  She logged into the security computer and erased the evening’s footage. Then she disabled the program. All the monitors went to static. She left a note for the day shift complaining that the security system was on the fritz, that she’d tried to fix it and failed.

  On her way back to the aquatics lab, Rick called, his voice harsh. “Lieutenant Green, this isn’t you. This is the magic. Selkie magic. Stop and think about what you’re doing.”

  She paused at the door. She was sure she knew what she was doing. But she’d read the stories, and Rick was right. Male selkies had a predilection for seducing women. This wasn’t her, it was the magic.

  And she wanted it.

  The hand that pressed the button for the lock to the north tank was not hers. Not really.

  The door to the selkie’s cage opened with a small noise. She kept her back to it. Her breath was short, her eyes closed with the realization of what she was doing. She’d worked so hard, stayed in control her whole life, and now she did nothing but wait. She gripped the railing by the stairs.

  She heard dripping, water rushing off a body climbing onto the catwalk. Still, the touch on her shoulders came as a shock and made her flinch. He must have sensed her anxiety, because he brushed her arm gently, stroking lightly with fingertips until she relaxed. Letting her grow accustomed to him, as if he were taming a wild animal. Then both his hands touched her, moved along her arms to her shoulders. Her shirt grew damp with his touch.

  He kissed the back of her neck at her hairline, below the twist she kept her hair up in. His breath was hot on her skin. Her body melted, slumping into his touch. He pulled her back, away from the stairs, slipped his body in front of hers, and pressed her against the cage. She was limp, unseeing. She let him guide her.

  He nuzzled her neck. Her nerves tingled with every touch. Overwhelmed, she moaned softly. His hands moved to the buttons of her dress shirt. He had them open before she realized it, and his hands were inside, cupping her breasts, fingers slipping under her bra.

  Instead of putting her hands on his shoulders to push him away, like she should have done, Robin clutched at him, her fingers slipping on his slick skin. She dug her nails in for a better grip.

  “Hmm,” he murmured and pinned her against the bars. It was the first sound she’d heard him make.

  He pulled her arms away just long enough to take her shirt off. His hand slid easily over her skin, and her bra fell away. His kisses moved from her neck, down to her breasts. She wrapped her arms around his head, holding him close.

  She bent, unconsciously trying to pull away from so much sensation, so much of him, but the bars kept her close. She couldn’t get away. She didn’t want to. Skilfully, more deftly than she could have thought from someone who lived in water and didn’t wear clothes, he opened the zipper of her trousers, and slipped his hands into her panties. One hand caressed her backside, the other - played. Oh . . . She struggled to kick off her shoes, and get her pants off, to give him better access. He helped.

  Her clothes gone, they were naked together, skin pressed against skin. His erection was hard against her thigh. He paid attention to nothing but her, and she was overwhelmed. Locking her against him, he pulled her down to the catwalk.

  They were going to do it, right here on the catwalk, her clothes awkwardly spread out to protect her from the steel. Marina softly sang something in Irish that was no doubt very bawdy.

  And Robin felt like she had saved herself just for this moment.

  The next evening, she brought hay to the unicorn’s cell.

  “Here you go. Come on.”

  The unicorn stayed at the far end of the room, its head down, its ears laid back, its nostrils flaring angrily.

  Robin stood, arms limp at her sides. Of course. She left the hay, closed the door, and continued her rounds.

  She found a note in the lab from the day shift explaining that the problem with the security system had been fixed with a simple reboot, and if it happened again she should try it. The officer in charge sounded testy that they’d lost a whole evening’s worth of surveillance. Not that anything around here ever changed.

  Except that it had, everything had changed, and Robin didn’t want anyone to know it. She shut down the recording program again, and removed fuses from half the monitors as well, blinding them.

  “Lieutenant,” Rick called to her as she removed his pints from the incubator and prepared his supper. “Look at yourself. This isn’t like you. He has enchanted you.”

  “I don’t want to hear it,” she murmured, sliding his beakers of blood through the slot in the window.

  Rick didn’t look at them; instead, he pressed himself to the window, palms flat against the plastic, imploring. “He’s using you. He doesn’t care about you, he’s only manipulating you.”

  She looked at him. Not his eyes, but his cheekbones, his ear, the dark fringe of his hair. Anything but his eyes. “Just like you would do, if I opened your door and let you seduce me?”

  Which wasn’t fair, because Rick had never tried to seduce her, never tried to take advantage of her. Not that she’d ever given him the opportunity. But he’d always spoken so kindly to her. He’d spoken to her. And until now, she had never thought of Rick as anything but the elegant man who was supposed to be a vampire, locked in a prison cell.

  “I’d never hurt you, Robin.”

  Now when he looked at her, she flushed. Quickly, she turned towards the aquatics lab.

  “Robin, stop,” he implored. “Don’t go in there. Don’t let him use you like this.”

  She gripped the doorway so hard her fingers trembled. “I’ve never felt like this before,” she murmured.

  She hadn’t meant for him to hear, but he was a vampire, with a vampire’s hearing. He replied, “It’s not real. Let it go.”

  “It feels ... I can’t,” she said. Because she had never felt so good, so much before, it
was like a drug that filled her up and pushed every other worry aside. A part of her knew Rick was right, that if this feeling was a drug, then she’d become an addict in a day and she should stop this.

  The rest of her didn’t care.

  When she reached the aquatics lab, the selkie hung on to the door of the cage, his dark eyes shining in anticipation. As soon as she’d given Marina her supper, Robin pressed the button for the lock.

  Friday night.

  Colonel Ottoman left a message on voicemail saying he’d be back Saturday. So this was it, for her and the selkie.

  She lay in his arms, on the rock in the aquarium. He played with her loose, damp hair, running his fingers through it. She held his other arm around her waist. He was strong, silent. He wrapped her up with himself when they were together.

  She couldn’t let it end.

  “We’ll go away, you and I.”

  He looked away and laughed silently. He kissed her hand and shook his head.

  It was a game to him. She couldn’t be sure what he thought; he never spoke. She didn’t know if he couldn’t or wouldn’t.

  “Why not?”

  He traced his finger along her jaw, down her neck. Then he nestled against the rock and closed his eyes.

  She couldn’t hope to understand him. Colonel Ottoman was right, they weren’t even human.

  His seal skin lay nearby, on the rock where he had discarded it. She grabbed it, jumped into the water and swam to the door. He splashed, diving after her, but she climbed onto the catwalk and slammed the door shut before he reached her.

  She stood, clutching the skin to her breast. Glaring at her, he gripped the bars of the locked door.

  “Tell me why I shouldn’t do this.”

  He pressed his lips into a line and rattled the door.

  She put the skin out of reach of the cage and pulled on the slacks and shirt of her uniform. All expressions of playfulness, of seduction, had left the selkie. His jaw was tight, his brow furrowed.

  Skin in hand, she ran to the main lab where she found a knapsack stashed under her desk. She needed clothes for him, maybe an extra lab coat . . .